


Affairs of the Heart

by giles_forever8495



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-08 19:03:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17391938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giles_forever8495/pseuds/giles_forever8495
Summary: In season 3 episode 10 The Director Conclusion, Red says he went through marriage counseling, but it didn't work because he had a thing for the therapist. I decided that that would be a fun story to write, so here it goes.I'm also basing this story on the assumption that Red was once married to Carla Reddington/Nyomi Hyland. But all of this is an alternate universe in which Red is a law abiding citizen (for the most part) and Liz is a licensed and practicing therapist.





	1. Chapter One

"Raymond Reddington! Get your ass in here right now!"

Ray groaned and rolled his eyes. _Here we go again_ , he thought. She was always yelling at him, fighting with him at every turn. She was perfectly unreasonable. He loved her at some point, really, he did. He wouldn't have married her otherwise. But at this point, he seriously has put up with a lot. She doesn't even know half the things he's aware of. But still, he cares for her.

He sauntered into the room, keeping his shoulders back and head high. He was never one to walk into a room, or a fight, and not be a commanding presence. It was how he became so successful. People talk a lot of shit about the Navy, especially Marines. And, who knows, their comments could be warranted in regards to your average Naval officer. Raymond Reddington, however, was anything but average.

"Yes, my dear?" He quipped dryly with a slight smirk on his face.

Carla was fuming. The blazing red heat could be seen throughout every inch of visible skin. He couldn't imagine what she had found to be this pissed.

"What the hell is this?" She yelled, holding up a brochure.

He walked calmly towards her, stuffing one hand in his pocket and reaching for the booklet with the other. He looked over the front, then flipped to the back and did the same. "I'm not sure what you're asking me," he started slowly, "because if you're asking what I think you're asking, then you won't be pleased with my relatively straight forward answer."

"Dammit Ray, I know what it says! I want to know why you have brochures for marriage counselors!" She shouted and pointed to the stack of brochures similar to the one in his hand.

He took a moment to think about his words before he spoke. He's been doing that more and more lately. Carla seems to be on edge about a lot. "Carla, please," he said motioning to the chairs in front of his desk. They both sat. Carla finally took a moment to take a deep breath while she waited for him to continue. "I think we can both admit that these past months, maybe even the last couple of years, have been...difficult, to say the least. I don't like fighting with you or raising my voice at you. I don't like the discord that has formed between us. If you hear me out, I'd like to work on our relationship. There must be something we can salvage."

She was still angry, but she actually seemed to hear him for once. "I don't like that you went behind my back, Ray."

"I understand, and I apologize for keeping this from you."

"When were you planning on telling me?"

"I wanted to wait until I found someone who I think would be a good fit for us. I was planning on telling you at dinner tonight."

"You decided that a night out would be a good way to tell me that we needed counseling?" Her voice raised a bit, and Ray could feel his heart giving up just a little bit. She stood abruptly and walked to the other side of the office and then back towards him with an accusing posture. "And what if I said no, Ray? What then? Were you going to ask for a divorce?"

"Should I?" He asked quietly. "Because, honestly Carla, I don't want to. I wouldn't be looking at marriage counselors if I wanted just to leave." He stood and turned towards the door. "And we're not going out tonight. I planned on making your favorite meal for dinner. If you'd still like to join me, it should be ready by seven." And with that, he left the room.

He hadn't spoken to her for the rest of the day. He stayed in the kitchen, alternating from cooking and reading. It was quiet in the house, save the sounds of the kitchen. By 6:45, Ray was beginning to believe that he'd be eating alone tonight. By 6:59, he almost just threw everything away.

But at seven o'clock sharp, Carla walked into the kitchen and helped him set the table. She'd changed her clothes, he noticed, and she looked quite beautiful. As they sat down, he smiled at her, and if anyone were looking in, they might assume it was even a shy smile.

Dinner was surprisingly peaceful. There wasn't much conversation, but the food was truly delicious. Towards the last few bites, Carla finally broached the subject of their marriage. 

"So, who did you choose?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes." He pulled a business card from his pocket and slid it across the table to her. "I got this from a work friend after I accidentally mentioned we fought a while back. He told me counseling was the best thing he and his wife ever did."

"And this belongs to one of the therapists you were looking into?"

"Yes. I researched them all thoroughly. She has the best reviews and is liked by many people."

"She seems young."

"Maybe, but she's good at her job. Isn't that enough?"

Carla nodded her head almost solemnly. This was going to be one interesting journey. 

\----------

She really hated coming in on Fridays. But she was never one to turn down a client. Elizabeth Milhoan walked into her office bright and early. It's barely 7:45, but her appointment was for eight. She really needed to get prepared. It was only a first time meeting - a couple looking for marriage counseling, the Reddington's. She had spoken with the husband...Raymond. He expressed an interest weeks ago, but apparently, it had taken some time to convince his wife of the need for counseling. In truth, she was glad it had taken time; on some level, it means that they are both willing to work things out. Hopefully, this session will allow her to understand where the relationship is at and what they will need moving forward.

At 8 o'clock sharp, there was a knock on her door. Her receptionist was out today, seeing that there was only one client scheduled for the morning.

She opened the door with a warm smile, "Hello. You must be the Reddington's. Please, come in."

Ray and Carla quietly walked into the office. Their commute this morning was anything but amicable. Carla started off the morning with an attempted excuse as to why they needed to cancel. Ray, of course, was having none of it. He, more than a little sarcastically, explained that Dr. Milhoan doesn't typically work Fridays, but she allowed them to come in simply because of her generosity and care for clients. After Carla huffed in annoyance at his tone, she followed him out to the car where more fighting ensued about 'driving the speed limit' and 'you should have taken route 1.' All in all, by the time they knocked on the door, they were too upset to make eye contact.

"Thank you for seeing us, Dr. Milhoan," Raymond said as he took a seat on the far end of the couch. "My name is Raymond, and this is my wife, Carla." He extended his hand, and they exchanged pleasantries.

"Please, call me Liz. It's nice to meet you both," she smiled. She could sense the tension between the couple. Actually, she could see the tension. Raymond sat on the far left of the couch. Carla sat on the far right. And Liz was left sitting in an armchair staring at the empty center cushion. For their next appointment, Liz decided she would use the loveseat. No space to avoid each other on that one.

"Why don't we get started? Tell me a bit about yourselves: how long have you been married, do you have any kids, pets, family?" She let the question hang in the air. The trick to counseling is that the longer it is quiet, the more likely the client will fill the silence.

Carla stayed motionless on her end of the couch, hands folded in her lap and eyes downcast. Raymond fidgeted uncomfortably, heaved a puff of air, crossed his legs and began, “We’ve been married for almost twenty years.” He stole a sideways glance at Carla. “Known each other for thirty-five years. No pets. Carla has a sister in Atlanta. I have a brother in Boston.”

“I noticed you didn’t mention kids?”

Raymond and Carla flashed a look at each other. The topic of children was something they hadn’t spoken of for so long. Again it was Raymond who answered her question. “No kids,” he said quietly without making eye contact.

Liz made a note in her journal. Children would be a topic that she would return to later. “Carla, I would like to hear from you as well. Can you tell me what brought you here today?”

Carla looked up at Liz and then glanced at Raymond. “Well,” she started slowly, “Last week, Raymond mentioned that he thought we should try counseling, so we talked about it and decided to come in today.”

Ray scoffed at Carla, but kept his eyes focused on something across the room.

“What?” Carla hissed.

“We talked about it?” Raymond turned his shoulders to her, and his voice rose. “I talked about it. You yelled and fought me every step of the way.”

Liz intervened before this could go too far, “Carla?” She asked calmly. “Do you think maybe you don’t need to be here?”

“I think that if we have problems, then we need to talk them out. No offense, Dr. Milhoan, but I don’t believe in counseling, and I don’t want to be here.”

“That’s understandable,” Liz said. She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. Sooner or later she always ends up lecturing couples just a bit. Apparently, with Raymond and Carla, it was going to be sooner rather than later. “Marriage isn’t as easy as everyone likes to pretend it is. You both have made it work for twenty years; that is an achievement that you should be proud of. I also believe that the length of your marriage is what brought you here. It’s hard to give up on something that you’ve devoted so much time and effort towards. Marriage takes work. You’re here, even if you may not want to be because on some level you both believe that this marriage is worth saving.” Liz stole a quick glance at the clock on her wall. “We still have about thirty minutes left. During this time, I want you two to face each other on the couch, hold eye contact, and go back and forth sharing the things that you love about each other. You may feel that it 's difficult. However, I want you really to think. Your answers don’t have to be immediate, but they must be spoken.” She gave them an urging nod, motioning for them to begin.

Carla and Raymond sat still for a minute until they realized that Liz wasn’t joking. Then, as slowly as possible, they turned their bodies to face each other. Making eye contact seemed to be the hardest thing either had ever done. The tension built until finally, Raymond spoke first, again.

He started slowly. His voice rasped against the dryness of his throat. “One of the things that made me fall in love with you was your laugh.” A small, sad smile breached the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t heard her laugh in years. He’d barely seen her smile. She really had a beautiful laugh.

Carla was taken back by his admission. She always hated her laugh; it was loud and sometimes she’d snort. As a kid, it was something she was often teased about. She took a deep breath and thought for a moment. Did she ever love anything about him? There was one thing, she supposed. “I love the way you used to hug me, like if you let go then your world would fall.”

“I love how you smell.”

“Really?” She chuckled, but the smile was genuine and managed to stick to her lips.

“Yes,” he nodded and smiled.

Carla took another moment to think. “I love the way you tell stories.”

They went back and forth for twenty-five minutes before Liz finally stopped them. She had made a note of each thing they said as well as the response. It was incredible to see how many couples forget that love once existed in their marriage. And often, once they were reminded of that love, they gained the ground that was previously lost. Raymond and Carla certainly seemed lighter and even closer than when they first came in this morning. This hour had been somewhat productive, but going home, without a mediator will be the real test.

They scheduled an appointment for next week on one of Liz’s regular days. She hoped, for their sake that they could hold onto the spark of hope that flared between them today.

\-----------------

Four relatively successful weeks had gone by since their first appointment. They made Thursdays their regular time. The loveseat worked, as Liz expected it would, especially during the almost constant bickering. Leaving no room to run away forced the couple to confront their emotions and thoughts. She saw progress, however, she also sensed that they were holding back. The appointment Liz had with the Reddington’s today was the start of a very bumpy, emotional road. Today Liz was bringing up children.

At eleven o’clock, Raymond and Carla were seated again on the loveseat. They seemed relatively relaxed, but something was in the air between them.

“So,” Liz started, “How has your week been?”

Raymond looked at Liz, glanced at Carla, and took a very deep breath. This past week had been the most difficult since they started seeing Liz. On Friday, they were supposed to have a “first date.” It was a way of showing each other that they still cared and wanted to start again. But at the last minute, Carla cancelled saying that her business meeting ran late. Ray ended up having dinner alone and ripping up the concert tickets that he was going to surprise her with. He was furious, and yet, heartbroken. For him, the last four weeks had been great. They were finally communicating. He was starting to feel that spark again. Instead, he received a jarring slap in the face, bringing him back to the reality that his wife was still cheating on him. He slept in the guest room that night and every night since. They weren’t fighting, but they weren’t talking either. He wasn’t sure what was worse. For the first time in his life, Raymond was actually contemplating divorce. He had all the proof he needed, in case she wanted to fight him. One of his best friends was a lawyer, and a damn good one at that. She could keep the house, one of the cars, and everything contained within. However, he has quite a bit of money saved that she will never get her hands on. Apart from being in the Navy, Raymond has many successful businesses and investments all over the world. He has a business account that Carla has no claim to.

“Honestly, Liz, our week has been fairly quiet.” Ray said with a sense of reserve. He had made a final decision.

Liz leaned forward and looked from Raymond to Carla, “A good quiet, or a bad quiet?”

“Well, he’s been sleeping in the guest room and hasn’t said a word to me since Friday, so what do you think?” Carla snarled.

“Ray, is that true?” Liz asked gently.

“Yes.” He wasn’t going to lie about it. “And while generally I would explain my actions, I think Carla knows exactly why I haven’t been sleeping in our bed.”

Liz looked at Carla and Carla snapped her eyes to his profile. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means exactly what I said, Carla. There’s no subtext here.” Ray sat back with his legs crossed and his focus on something far away.

Liz found the sudden lack of interest on Raymond’s part fairly interesting. Something significant happened that has caused him to shut down, give up. She’s missing something, clearly… Liz flipped back through her notes from last week and found the missing puzzle piece. “Carla, you two were supposed to have a date last week, correct? How did that go?”

Suddenly, Carla’s face dropped into her hands. _Of course, the date!_ She thought. “Is that what this has all been about?” She tried to catch his eyes, but they were still trained on something across the room. “We didn’t end up going out. My, my business meeting ran late. I didn’t want him to have to wait any longer, so I called and cancelled.” 

Liz nodded her head trying to understand Cara’s actions. She was more curious about Raymond, though. She could see the tension build in his shoulders. He was doing his best to not say something. “Ray?” Liz was trying to get him more involved. “Is that the reason you haven’t been sleeping in your bed?” Before he even spoke, Liz knew that cancelling a date wasn’t reason enough to stop sleeping with someone, but she needed to understand what was going on in his mind.

He didn’t answer right away. Liz watched his body language change as he processed through what he was going to say. She saw a brief flash of anger, followed quickly by hurt, until finally a look of resolution settled on his brow. His shoulders seemed to relax a bit as the weight of his decision faded. He uncrossed his legs and turned towards Carla. “I bought tickets,” he said in a quiet voice with his eye brows raised.

“What?” Carla didn’t quite understand, and his sudden change in demeanor shocked her. He surprised Liz a bit as well.

“That concert you had been talking about for the last few weeks? I bought tickets. For us. For that night.” He took a breath and let his chin fall slightly to his chest. A sad smile briefly graced his lips as he whispered, “I was going to surprise you.” And as quickly as the smile appeared, it disappeared. He took a deep breath, looked directly into Carla’s eyes, “I know you weren’t at a business meeting. I know you were with Frank.”

Liz didn’t know exactly who Frank is, but she certainly made a note on her pad. By Raymond’s tone of voice and the look on Carla’s face, she could at least make a good guess. She’d sensed since day one that Carla was hiding something, holding something back.

“Frank?” Carla asked in an attempt to deflect.

“Yes,” Ray rolled his eyes. “Frank. The man you’ve been sleeping with for the past two and half years. Frank Hyland.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a short teaser, so I hope you enjoy it!!

It had been almost two weeks since Liz had heard from the Reddington’s. Their last session ended rather poorly. Actually, in terms of counseling it went pretty well. Truths were shared and weights were lifted. As a therapist, Liz had learned that some relationships weren’t meant to last. More often than not couples got together out of convenience or social pressures. So while it was always sad to see a marriage end, sometimes it was necessary.

In the case of the Reddington’s, ending the marriage was truly the most civil way to go about their problems. By the end of their last session, Carla had admitted to the affair and to the fact that she’d stopped loving Ray a long time ago. For her, it was the struggle to have children and his over eagerness to be the provider that led to her, looking elsewhere.

The fallout, Liz surmised, would be much harder for Raymond. His attachments to chivalry and old-fashioned views make divorce a trying decision. Honestly, Liz had been worried about him since that day. For a man like Raymond Reddington, divorce could lead to drastic and often impulsive life changes.

————

Ray sat at his desk. A glass of scotch rested in the tips of his left fingers while a pen balanced between his right ones. He motionlessly stared into the blue colored legal paper that was before him. The official seal of the state of Maryland inked in black. A red stamp in the corner - “APPROVED”.

Six weeks had passed. Six weeks since he asked for a divorce during counseling. Eleven days since he’d seen or spoken to Carla, his new ex-wife. How he loathed the term. He consistently refused to call himself an Ex-Navy Officer. Once an officer always an officer. He applied the same thought process to his marriage. Once a husband... But now he was an ex, whether he liked it or not. And the proof was in the papers before him.

He lifted the glass of scotch to his lips and tossed the amber liquid to the back of his throat. He needed to feel that burning sensation. He needed to feel something, anything but the failure creeping into his mind.

A buzzing on the corner of the desk shifted his attention. The screen of the phone lit up as a call came through, and the name on the call brought a small smile to the corner of Ray’s mouth. _Perfect timing,_ he thought as he reached for the device.

“Dembe!” He called into the phone. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear from you, old friend.”

“How are you, Raymond?” Dembe asked in his comforting accent.

Ray leaned back in his chair, straightened his vest, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes, “I’ve seen better days.”

“I heard about Carla. Is it final yet?”

“Paperwork is in front of me. Signed and approved.” Ray took a deep breath and felt tension once again in his shoulders. “I need to get out of this house, Dembe.”

“I may be able to help with that.” Ray heard a knock at the door and a boyish grin came over his lips.

————

The last time Ray went out like this he was in his twenties. Of course the nightclubs from his twenties weren’t anything like the one he’s in now. Now they’re filled with beautiful, young, scantily clad women who are more than eager to let the liquor take control. The music is louder and not live. The lights are darker, or maybe there are just less of them? Who knows, even the bar tenders are drunk tonight. Dembe knew exactly how Ray needed to unwind, to forget for a night. He had always attracted the attention of beautiful women, but tonight was the first night in over twenty years that he can actually indulge. And oh how he planned to indulge.

They’d paid for a private table, bottle service, and more than a few drinks for smiling faces. He’d spent time dancing and flirting. There was almost a fight over a red head in a tight skirt. Finally, just before last call, Dembe had the good sense to pull him out.

He stumbled a few steps down the sidewalk, caught himself on parking meter. He was laughing, giggling really, at himself. “I’ve never been this drunk!” He called through a fit of laughter.

“You and I both know that is not true, my friend,” Dembe smiled. He was also stumbling, but not as much as Raymond. It is true, however, that Dembe hadn’t seen Ray have this much fun in a very long time. It was good to see him smile.

Once they found some balance, Ray and Dembe made their way down the street. They walked a few blocks in comfortable silence until Ray made a sad groaning noise. “Ugh, Dembe. I don’t know where I went wrong.”

Dembe lifted a hand to Ray’s shoulder and gave him an encouraging pat. “You did the best you could, Raymond.”

“Did I? I’m not so sure.” Ray said with a small shake of his head. “I should have suggested the therapy before any of it ever happened. I should have done something.”

At the end of the street was a quiet park, so they made their way to a bench and sat looking out into the clear night. “Do you really think that would have made things better?” Dembe asked.

“I don’t know,” Ray sighed. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and scraped his fingers through his buzzed hair. After a moment to think, a smile appeared on his face and he leaned back against the bench with a chuckle. “Actually,” he started, “I’m quite sure had we gone to see that therapist years ago, I might have enjoyed it too much.”

Dembe’s bright teeth broke through his smile, “Yes, I can see how the good doctor might have caused more problems than solved them.”

“You should meet her, Dembe! She’s,” he took a breath. It was hard to find just one word to describe her. “Marvelous. Honestly, the first moment I met her, I was captivated. She’s intelligent, enthusiastic, beautiful. More often than not my motivation for going to those sessions was to be near her.”

“Did Carla know that?”

He barked out a laugh. “If she did, she didn’t care!”

Dembe laughed with him. “You should ask her out for coffee. Get to know her outside of a session.”

“I’m not so sure that’s appropriate. She is, after all, my therapist.”

“When’s the last time you did anything that was appropriate?” Dembe laughed. “Besides, it’s been over a month since you’ve seen her.”

Ray thought for a moment. It’s true, he technically wasn’t her client any more. He’d paid for their last session already and wasn’t planning on paying for more. The divorce was finally, well, final. All that was left between he and Carla was the divvying up of their belongings. She’d moved in with Frank, but Ray was planning on selling their home anyway. Too many emotions lay within those walls. As far as furniture and decorations go, she could have it all. Whatever she doesn’t take he plans on selling as well. No pets or kids to speak of, so all in all, it would be a fairly simple separation. Maybe a date with a beautiful woman wouldn’t be a bad idea.

————

The next morning Ray found himself with one hell of a hangover. He woke up on the couch with his shirt twisted around, his pants only on one leg, and he was missing a sock. He didn’t remember exactly how he got home, but he trusted that Dembe took good care of him. He fixed himself best he could and made his way to the kitchen. His head was in dire need of some painkillers. A glass of water and a small handful of pills was what he needed.

That and a long shower. He smelled rancid. Like a foul combination of alcohol and sweat seeping through his pores.

An hour later, Ray made his way back to the kitchen. The towel around his waist fought against every step he took, but he needed to brew some coffee. He went through the motions so easily, it was like riding a bike. Water in the tank, paper in the filter, and, “Dammit,” he mumbled. No more coffee.

_A trip to the coffee shop it is._

————

Liz enjoyed Sunday mornings. They were peaceful, relaxed, and the perfect opportunity to read a good book. She used to sit in her back yard; underneath the large oak tree, she had made herself a cozy nook with a cushy swing bench. She loved to curl up with a blanket in the shade and relax with a nice cup of coffee. Recently, however, her neighbor has been...watching her. She noticed him the first time a few months ago. He was watching through his bedroom window, staring down over the fence at her. The first time she didn’t think anything of it. She simply smiled and waved politely. But he didn’t wave or smile back. He just...stared. So she found herself a new place to read.

A few miles down the road she had found an adorable coffee shop. When you walked in the front door, the sweet aroma of coffee beans filtered through your nose. The order counter was on the left along with a diner-style bar where customers could sit, drink, and eat while engaging with the baristas. Straight to the back were the stacks of books along with the hallway to the restrooms. In the middle of the cafe, and to the right, were the seating areas. Casual tables and comfy chairs centered the doorway, and cozy couches and lounge chairs surrounded the fireplace on the right wall. The natural wood and cotton textures paired perfectly with the subtle blue and grey color scheme, all of which added to the homey ambiance set by the natural light through the windows.

More often than not, Liz found herself here on Sunday mornings, surrounded by the quiet regulars and fragrant coffees. This was her quiet place, her home away from home.

After ordering her coffee, she found her regular spot near the fireplace and curled up in the cushy lounge chair. She flipped through her copy of _The Time Traveler’s Wife_ , a story she has yet to tire of, and found the chapter she’d marked.

The chime from the bell over the door brought her attention up and she couldn’t believe the sight before her.

“Marco!” Ray called as he entered the café. She noticed something about him, something different than the last time he was in her office. He seemed...lighter. As if the weight that had been bearing down on him had finally been lifted. He was dressed in casual navy jeans, brown leather shoes that matched his belt, and a light blue button down shirt that brought out his eyes. Speaking of his eyes, they carried the smile that was on his face as he talked to Marco, the owner of this coffee shop. She truly admired his eyes. When his face showed nothing, his eyes held the truth.

During their sessions, it was usually his eyes that she was able to read in order to understand him. The pain she saw when they glazed over, the memories he recalled when they stared off at nothing, the anger he felt when his pupils constricted just slightly; most often what she noticed was something she couldn’t admit to herself - the way he looked at her. His pupils would dilate, his head would tilt to the side a bit, and the corner of his mouth would rise. In the moments that he would look at her, she found herself lost in his eyes, captivated completely.

As she stared off in his direction, Ray turned his head over his shoulder. He had just finished catching up with Marco and ordering a pound of coffee for the house when he noticed her. Legs tucked beneath her while she read her book. Or, pretended to read. Because now he noticed her beautiful face lifted towards his. He smiled, he couldn’t help it.

Marco handed Ray a take-home bag with his ground coffee. “Do you know her?” He asked quietly pointing his chin at Liz.

Ray turned back for a moment, “she was my therapist,” he laughed. Marco had known all too well how therapy ended for Raymond. The divorce was fairly public among their friends; Carla had made sure of that. She tried terribly to make Ray out to be the bad guy. Her only trouble was that everyone in their lives already knew of her affair with Frank. She was never a good liar.

“She comes in every Sunday morning. Like clock work,” Marco explained. “Real sweet girl. Same coffee, same spot on the couch. Only thing that’s ever different is the book in her hands.”

“Do you think she’d mind if I interrupted her reading?” Ray inquired.

 

Marco laughed to himself, “I don’t think she’s read a single word since you walked in here. Been on the same page for the last fifteen minutes!”

 

Ray smiled. He found himself...blushing. Actually blushing. He hadn’t blushed since high school, maybe. More likely it was in middle school when Beverly Reynolds kissed him behind the bleachers during gym class. He shook his head, laughing to himself and grabbed the bag Marco had left before him.

 

As he walked over to her, Ray could see her body language shift. She knew he was approaching, but she was trying to pretend like she didn’t. However, the small smile on her lips was an adorable giveaway. He liked that.

 

Ray sat down in the armchair next to her and crossed his legs. As he set down his bag of coffee, she lifted her eyes to meet his. He gave her that same captivating look and spoke in a low, gravelly tone. “Dr. Milhoan, what a pleasure.”


End file.
